Silence
by boohoo650
Summary: A single mom is found murdered in her apartment. I'll leave it at that.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own them. Just playing for a while.

A/N2: Attempting the multi-chaptered case file again. Reviews, comments and constructive criticism welcome.

The sharp trill of a telephone woke Alex Eames from her sleep. She reached for it before opening her eyes but when her hand couldn't find it she raised her lids warily. It was when her eyes couldn't locate the phone that she realized she wasn't in her own bedroom. This coupled with the fact that the room before her felt like it was spinning made her aware of the fact that this was a night of drinking gone awry.

Extricating herself from the unfamiliar arm of her unknown bedmate she stumbled towards the sound of the ring.

She found it in the living room in her jacket pocket. The jacket had been deposited over the arm of the couch and two empty wine glasses remained on the coffee table. Clearly, she had thought it wise to come up to this person's apartment for a nightcap.

"Eames." She answered the phone as soon as she located it, hoping that she wasn't slurring her words.

"Eames, it's me."

"Bobby? I thought it was our night off?"

"It is. Was. Ross just called. They found a body in a brownstone in Brooklyn."

"Sounds like something for Brooklyn Homicide."

"Yeah. Except there's a baby missing."

"Who found a body in an apartment this late? What were they doing in the apartment this late? Never mind. I guess we'll be finding that out."

"So, you want to pick me up? Or should –"

"I'm not at home. I… And I don't have my car."

"Oh." Goren paused, not quite sure what to say at her revelation. "Well, we'll just meet down there."

"Okay. Good."

"Eames?"

"Yeah, Goren?"

"How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Excuse me?!" It was hard for her to hide the anger in her voice.

"I just… I don't want you to come down there if you've had a lot. I don't want you to get in trouble. I mean… come on, you've had my back so many times. I'm just looking out for you here."

"I'm fine. I'll be fine."

After listening to her partner relay the address she closed her phone and took a brief inventory of her surroundings.

The place was decorated in a very sleek matter. Leather furniture, big screen T.V., and… oh, wait there it was. The requisite picture of the woman Eames could only assume her bedmate was in an actual relationship with.

"Shit." Under her breath the swear came out at the realization that she had managed to be 'the other woman' again.

Since she had fallen asleep wearing only her shirt Eames was unable to just leave. She stumbled back towards the bedroom and crept around looking for her clothing.

Making her way back to the living room she paused one more time before leaving her unnamed friend's apartment. Walking over to the desk where Mister Whatever-his-name-was had left his cell phone she perused his contacts list and deleted her number, which had been newly added earlier in the evening.

& &

She stepped out of the cab on Clinton Street. and moved past the police barricade that was cordoning off Livingston Street. Diving deeper into her wool coat she tried to shield herself from the November chill.

As she approached a brownstone halfway down the block she could see a handful of cops loitering around the stoop smoking cigarettes and warming their hands with cups of coffee.

She jogged up the concrete steps and into the interior of the building, where another cop pointed up the stairs.

"Top floor, detective."

Moving up four flights of stairs each level seemed to rise steeper and creek more as she worked her way through one of the cities many historic buildings.

When she entered the apartment she could see a bedroom door immediately to her left, and another further up the hall. Towards the back of the apartment was a kitchen and living room.

Her partner was leaning over the couch, inspecting the body in that 'way-too-close-for-comfort' manner that he had.

"Hey."

"Hello." His response came without him even looking up.

"So. What do we got?"

He was playing with her eyelids now. Forcing them open to look into the victim's eyes.

"Blair McKee. Female, age 35. Single mom, works for a small investment bank."

"Who found her?"

"A friend. Well, he says he's a friend and while I haven't spent any time with him yet I want to know what friend comes calling at 3 a.m. and can just let themselves in."

"You said on the phone something about a child?"

"Yeah. The friend told Officer Johnson, of the first unit that responded to the 911 call, that the victim has an 18 month old daughter."

Eames glanced over to the bookshelf that was against the far wall of the living room. A simple silver frame sat on the shelf that was at her eye level. The photo was of a young girl but the girl in the picture looked nothing like the victim.

"This is the daughter?"

"Yeah. I know. Mom's dark haired, dark eyed and kid is blonde with green eyes. Recessive jeans really came through in this case I guess."

"Where's dad. All we know so far is… not in the picture."

"Right."

"Where's the friend?"

"Giving his statement and his information to a uniform downstairs. He knows we'll be paying him a visit when morning comes."

"You didn't want to question him now? While the scene is fresh in his mind?"

"Trust me, Eames. This guy is not good for it. He looked so taken aback by the scene. Almost scared of it. Plus, it's not something he's every going to forget. Look at her… she's gagged, her eyes clawed at. And her throat's been slit. There's blood everywhere here."

Eames moved back towards the front of the apartment, towards the bedrooms.

"No blood in the crib. Doesn't even look like the struggle got that far."

It was as if he was reading her mind, knowing where she was going next.

She whirled around on her feet, turning once again into the scene that the living room held.

"Bottle of wine on the couch? Maybe she had been drinking alone. She looks like a strong girl… maybe the wine made her sleepy, slowed her down?"

"Could be. I smelled her mouth though. I can smell the wine, but it's not overly potent. She certainly hadn't had that much."

Eames paced around the apartment. It had an eerily familiar feeling to it. Lots of books. Lots of pictures of family and friends on the walls. Warm, inviting colors. Soft, cozy furniture to curl up on. A lived in feeling with a lonely quality to it.

It reminded her of her own home.

"There's a lot of pictures here, Goren. It looks like she was well liked."

"Yeah, a lot of friends. A lot of different locations. Also looks like she was well traveled. In the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathroom, and the entryway all have antique maps on their walls with the language native to the location on them and she's got a shelf full of travel guides to boot."

"I wonder who watches the baby while she travels?"

"I'm more concerned with who was drinking out of the other wine glass this evening,"

"I'm sorry? Goren, there's only one glass on the table."

"Yes, but from where you're standing on the other side of the room you can't see what I see."

She moved closer to the coffee table, staring at it impatiently.

"There's two coasters. Not only are there two coasters, there is liquid in the formation of a circle, where some would have spilled, on both coasters."

"Yes, although it is baffling me how both would have spilled. Either way… someone else was here with our vic tonight."

"Maybe her friend isn't just a friend after all."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Not mine.

"Okay. So the way this is going to work is we're going to turn on the tape recorder and ask you some questions about your relationship with the victim and the events as you know them that occurred last night."

Eames gave these brief instructions to the man that sat before her. He was dark haired, dark eyed and about six feet tall. He had the face of an overgrown baby for a man of 34 and he was as charming as anyone she'd ever met. But then, so were many of the perps she had collared in cases such as these.

"Should I get a lawyer?"

"Do you think you need a lawyer, Mr. Sandberg?"

Goren chose that moment to enter.

"Uh… sorry I'm late. I was going over the timeline of what we know so far." His voice cut through the awkward uncertainty on the part of John Sandberg. "Ready to start?"

Sandberg nodded his acceptance, however reluctant it was. Eames' eyes remained focused on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to meet hr gaze.

"Okay. Today is November 19, 2007. Detectives interviewing are Eames and Goren. Please state your name."

"John Matthew Sandberg."

"Mr. Sandberg, how well did you know the victim?"

"She… she was one of my best friends. I'm 34 and she was 35. We had known each other since we were babies. Our mothers used to play tennis together and our fathers golfed. We saw each other through some of the toughest times in our respective lives. Her brother, who both of us considered one of our best friends, was a wild partier who died while driving drunk. My dad recently had a stroke while hers has been confined to a wheel chair since she was eight. We've always been there when the other needed a shoulder to lean on. I've also had some of the greatest days of my life with her. I'm also her daughter Isabella's Godfather"

"We're you two involved romantically?"

"No. Not now, not ever. We've never even kissed. Not even as a joke or while we were drunk or anything."

"You seem very defensive about that question." Goren's interjection came evenly, the sound of his voice breaking through Eames' questioning and Sandberg's nervous answer.

"I just… It was hard, you know. Her brother was my best friend and out of respect for him I couldn't touch his sister. There was a whole group of us that were all close friends, most of us guys. And we all respected that she couldn't be just another girl to us."

"So, you looked at her like another guy?" Eames retook the reigns, her interest piqued at the idea of Blair being looked as like one of the guys.

"Almost. She wasn't shy about anything. Could roll with being in the 'boys club' so to speak. Could drink most of us under the table and never flinch. But… she was beautiful, there is no denying it. And the beauty… it came almost over night. She was given an Irish name after her father, but had the gorgeous looks of her Italian mother. It wasn't always like that though. Through college she was very heavy. Then the year I was a Senior and she was just out of school she turned up in March and I hadn't seen her since November. She had lost 40 pounds."

"Suddenly she couldn't be just another guy?"

"Well, she was never fat. But once those pounds came off and she developed a muscular body and her Italian curves really came out… she was hard to resist."

"But you did."

"I did."

"A lot of guys didn't?"

"Blair was always finding the wrong guy. She felt like she was destined to always wake up next to another married liar."

Goren glanced at Eames as the use of this familiar phrase. She hadn't flinched.

"She was everything most guys dream about having in a girl. Smart, sexy, decisive, liked sports and could even cook."

"What were you doing there last night?"

"I was just… stopping by."

"At 3:00 a.m.?"

"I was having a bad weekend. Blair and I… we had this thing. We were always there for one another, we had keys to each other's apartments. You know, if we were having a rough time and just needed to hide out somewhere…"

Eames chanced a sideways glance at Goren. They had exchanged keys some time ago in their partnership. It was only on two rare occasions that they had used them. Both times neither had been trying to escape their troubles, they had been trying to save the other from their demons.

"What about the baby? Goren's voice broke through Eames' thoughts and dragged her out of her reverie.

"Isabella? She was a lucky little girl. Blair did everything for her little girl. Worked hard to provide for her. Wanted her to have the best of everything and the brightest future. It wasn't easy for her, being a single mom. But… she did it. A friend of hers ran the daycare center in the building where she worked. So, she would leave Isabella there during the day and take her breaks there, going down to visit her daughter. She would take her out with her at lunch even, when she could get away from her desk for that long. If she had to work late Isabella would stay with Blair's mother. She was lucky to have a close relative living in the city."

"Who's the father?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, come on Mr. Sandberg, you expect Detective Eames and I to believe that this girl is your closest friend and you don't know who the father of her baby is?"

"She never told – "

"She never told you. Oh please. Which one of your friends are you protecting? Or are you protecting yourself?"

"I'm not protecting anyone. Blair… she liked to party. Who knows whose kid this is and why she decided to keep it. There isn't even a name on the birth certificate listed for the father. I asked and she wouldn't tell me. Hell, I don't even know if she knew. Before the baby she was no saint. But she was trying to change her ways."

"You really don't know, do you?"

"No, I really don't know."

"That must eat at you… not knowing your best friends' biggest secret."

"Not really. Like I said, I'm not even sure she knew who the father was."

"Eames, do you believe this guy?"

"I don't know. I tell my best friend everything."

"Mr. Sandberg. John. I'm going to call you John. Didn't you want to encourage Blair to let Isabella know her father? Didn't you think that was important for your Goddaughter?"

"Isabella had a lot of good, strong male figures in her life. And it wasn't for me to tell Blair what to do or how to raise her child."

"Any idea who was with Blair last night?"

"None. None. If I had to guess, by the bottle of wine, one of her girlfriends. Maybe her friend, our friend, Jen. Maybe her friend Anne. She's known them both since we were all little."

"Okay. Why don't you write some contact info for them on this pad and leave it on the table. We'll be in touch."

Goren strode out of the room ahead of Eames, who remained briefly with her gaze fixed on the man before her. She hurried to catch up to him, her short legs working overtime to meet his longer stride.

"What do you think, Bobby?"

"I think I know all of my best friends' secrets."

Eames looked at him with a semblance of understanding as he strode off in the direction of the men's room.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I don't own them.

"There's a baby missing and we have no idea where she may be."

"Yes, Detective. But you know, you know just as well as I do that we have to find our killer first or we won't no where to look for her."

"Captain, this guy… John, he may be worth following."

"Goren… we don't have the resources to just be tailing every person who 'may' be a suspect. Things are tight around here these days. Bring my something more solid and I'll stick a couple of Uniforms on him. Until then… go talk with some of the victim's other friends."

Goren left Captain Ross' office and returned to his desk. Eames was seated across from him, hunched over her computer.

"Find anything, Eames?"

"Not really. Sandberg is a long time employee at JPMorgan. Once married, once divorced. No children of his own. No record whatsoever, other than a few traffic tickets for moving violations. Most notably, one where he flipped his parents SUV when he was 19."

"So he's a clean arrow, but maybe jealous of what Blair had. Maybe he wanted her and wanted a kid. She rebuffed his advances he flew into a rage, killed her and has stashed the kid somewhere."

"But, as much as he irritated you, you don't actually believe that."

"No. I think he would have tipped his hand a little if he had. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who could keep a big secret very well. But, I still think he knows more than he is letting on."

"I don't know. I mean, he didn't even seem a little bit nervous or at all like he was trying to cover something up when you were quizzing him on who Isabella's father is."

"Yeah."

Eames watched her partner, knowing that a one word answer was never his style.

"Would you tell me?"

"I'm sorry, Goren, tell you what?"

"If you had a kid, or if you were pregnant, and you were going to raise it on your own would you tell me who the father was? Even if it was something like a one night stand where maybe you would be a little ashamed of the circumstances?"

"Well… if it was a one night stand I would be using protection and if that failed me I would be having an abortion. But, if I made a conscious decision to have a child on my own… well, sure I would tell you who the father was."

"I just, I just don't get it. This guy talks about her like she's his best friend. He referred to her as such. He's the baby's Godfather. And he couldn't tell you who gave her half her DNA."

"I think he was her best friend. But I think the problem is she seems to have had a lot of men in her life, particularly a lot of male friends. I understand this problem well. I think that if she had something to tell and felt uncomfortable or like she needed the opinion of a woman, she would talk to her best _girl_ friend. Even if that wasn't her closest friend. It just brings a whole never perspective to the table."

"I guess." There was a sudden pause, as Goren stopped to stare at his partner inquisitively. When her next spoke the questioning look was gone from his face. "Well, Sandberg threw out two names. Maybe we should try and find Jen and Anne?"

"Yes."

&

The pair had scoured Blair's PDA and somehow found only one Anne but multiple Jen's. On the drive to Anne's place of work at the NYU Downtown Medical center an awkward silence settled over the partners.

"Goren?"

"Eames."

"You seem worried."

"I seem worried?"

"Yes. Before… you asked me if I would tell you. Then you paused for a moment, as if you were suddenly uncertain about what I was saying but were wary of questioning me. You seemed worried about my trust in you as a friend. Either that or you don't buy into what I was saying but didn't want to comment. And I know it's not your style to hold your tongue."

"I just… I don't think that gender is a deciding factor in what a person will confide in you. If Blair saw John as her best friend she would have told him anything. I don't know if I believe that they were as close as he says because I think she would have told him her secrets if they were. I think the person you are closest to is the person you are closest to. I don't choose the things I tell you based on the fact that you're a woman. I tell you everything. You're my partner, my best friend. And if you were a guy I would still tell you everything."

"Right."

"Goren, for crying out loud if you have something you want to say to me spit it out. You're not one to dance around what you are thinking."

"There's been some sort of disconnect with us this year. We're starting to get back on the same page now and this case is just making me think a little bit more about the relationships, the _friendships_, between men and women. You and I are a prime example of one of those relationships and I guess I'm just trying to figure out what makes them tick. I'm trying to figure out if what Billy Crystal said in 'When Harry Met Sally' about men and women not being able to be just friends without sex being involved somehow is true."

"You've seen 'When Harry Met Sally'?"

"Who hasn't? Do you know how many sleepless nights I've found that movie on one cable channel or another? And maybe it seems like too much of a romantic comedy for me, but I do love Billy Crystal."

"Right. Well either way… this isn't about you or me or Billy Crystal. It's about a dead woman and a missing baby."

"Well, maybe Anne will be able to fill in some of our blanks."

&

"Blair was always one of my best friends. We met in kindergarten. I don't know how we lasted so long without losing touch, but we did. Still, although we were never really physically far from one another we had grown distant emotionally over the last few years. I always felt like there was something she wasn't telling me… and I think I resented that. I wanted her to confide in me and I couldn't handle the idea that she wouldn't."

"About the baby? Isabella?"

"She would never tell me who the father was. She wouldn't even admit to knowing who the father was. But I could see she knew. It was written all over her face every time I would ask her about it."

As Anne spoke she never took her eyes off of Goren. She kept raking them over his body, only settling on his face when he was asking the questions. She was heavyset with wavy, blonde hair. A rounded face with pasty white skin completed the picture of a not-so-healthy doctor who rarely saw the sun.

Eames wasn't sure why, but something about it was making her increasingly uncomfortable. It was an unspoken part of their schtick as partners. Goren would flirt with some of their female witnesses to get answers and Eames did the same with many of the men. It wasn't the option that always made you feel the best, but it frequently got the best results.

"But, you had suspicions?" Goren was pushing for a name, _that name_, to come out of her mouth.

"Yeah. I thought probably one of the guys she would bring home from bars when she was feeling particularly lonely. Maybe John, although I doubt it. Those two were just too close in that brother/sister way to cross that particular line. There was a guy she played volleyball with for a while back then. His name was Luke, I think? Big, tall blonde guy, Not as handsome as you Detective."

"His name was Luke, you said?" Eames took the opportunity to jump in as Goren focused his attention on some imaginary speck of dirt on the floor.

"Yeah. But I don't really think so. Who knows, maybe I was right all of these years and she was hooking up with Nick after all."

"Who's Nick?"

"He went to kindergarten with us. I totally thought there was something going on between those two from the time we were 18 until about 25. She always denied it though. Then he got married about… wow, I don't know. Maybe 2 and a half or three years ago. Time flies."

"Thanks for your help Anne, we really appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Detective Goren. Always happy to help,"

Eames rolled her eyes and moved to walk towards the hospital exit.

"Detectives. I was just kidding about what I said about Nick. It was just an ongoing joke between Blair and I. You should talk to Jen though. I have a feeling she and Blair were closer these days and maybe Blair shared something with her. Plus she was Isabella's Godmother. So maybe she knows something…" Her voice trailed off thoughtfully. "And please… let me know when you find the baby. She was a joy of a girl."

"What do you think?" Goren queried as the detectives made a beeline for the door.

"I think someone has an admirer."

Goren gave a deep-throated chuckle and blushed slightly.

"Seriously though. I think Anne could be a jealous friend. The way she flirted with you suggested she doesn't have anyone she is particularly close to in that sense. Plus, she may have been angry that Blair kept this big secret about who Isabella's father was. And Jen being named the Godmother… these two, from what we know, were Blair's only two girl friends. It could have pissed her off to be the second choice."

"Matybe."

She could feel Goren's gaze boring into the back of her head as he followed behind her to the car with his one word response. As they reached the car Eames' turned quickly on her heel, waiting for further insight into her partner's chaotic line of thinking.

"Hey, Eames."

"Yeah?"

"What do you say we go interview Jen and then… uh, how about you and I go out to dinner?"

That was not the insight she had been looking for.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I don't own them.

A/N2: Sorry about the delay. I will try and have another chapter up this week. Reviews (and constructive criticism) welcome.

She hadn't been expecting her partner to ask her to dinner when she was waiting for him to put his thoughts to words. It had been a long time since they had shared a meal other than lunch or midnight takeout in the workroom together. Eames felt as though she had lost her voice while she continued to stare at him. There was something so innocent in his invitation for a meal.

"Uh… never mind, Eames. You probably just want to call it a night after this interview. We've had a long day."

The sound of his voice made her realize that she had been staring into space for far too long. She had left him hanging… like many other people in his life, only on a smaller scale.

"No. No, Bobby. It would be great to have dinner. Nice to have company?"

_Nice to have company?_ Eames thought to herself. _Did I really say that out loud_?

"Okay. Good, then."

They moved back outside through the chilly winter air towards where they had left their car in awkward silence. It was hard for Eames to put her finger on when they had become so disjointed as a team. When they stopped being on the same page.

The ride to Jen McConnell's apartment was filled with silence, each partner left to wonder about the other. They passed by many of the city's eclectic neighborhoods on the drive from the NYU Downtown Medical Center to the Upper East Side neighborhood the woman lived in.

Watching the scenery changes as the car moved quickly up the FDR Drive left Bobby transfixed. Every day he spent in the city he could find something new to see. He wondered to himself about how the city had evolved over time, and continued to evolve still. It was like his relationship with his partner. The pieces to the puzzle ever changing, constantly in motion. Goren pondered the thought, contemplating whether or not there would every be a constant in his life or if the constant would merely be that things would always be changing.

The partners didn't speak again until after Eames had parked the car on East 83rd street. They walked up to Fifth Avenue and mad a right. The McConnell's lived directly across from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

"What do we think? That this woman's going to be your stereotypical wealthy primadonna?"

"That question, coming from you Goren, surprises me. You know better than to try and judge a book by its cover. But... if you're going to make me guess… probably, yes."

He smiled at her response and led the way past the buildings doorman with a flash of his badge.

The elevator that carried the detectives up to the penthouse floor was as ostentatious as any they had ever seen. It was a reminder that this case involved some wealthy people, even if the victim wasn't living a life as flashy as those of her friends.

Goren rang the doorbell and the sound of heels clattering across a tiled floor could be heard from within.

They could hear the jingle of the chain on the door being undone and the click of the deadbolt unlocking the door. When it finally opened a tall, slim blonde stood before them.

"Mrs. McConnell?"

"Yes."

"I'm Detective Goren, this is Detective Eames. We were wondering if we could talk to you about your friend Blair McKee."

Immediately the woman's eyes filled with tears.

"Um. Yes, of course. Please come in. Can I offer you something to drink?"

There was something about the woman that made her seem very humble and welcoming compared to many of the members of the upper crust of society that they met under unfortunate circumstances.

"We're fine, Mrs. McConnell."

"Please, call me Jen."

She led them through the foyer and into a warmly decorated living room. Jen sat in an overstuffed armchair and motioned for the detectives to sit on a chocolate colored leather couch.

"So, what can I do to help you?"

"How close were you to Blair?" Goren started with a simple question, but one that could provide a lot of insight into the circumstances surrounding the victim's death and her missing daughter if the friend knew anything.

"She was like a sister to me. We… we had known each other since we were little girls. I was really one of the only girl friends she had. Blair was always known for being 'one of the guys.'"

"Was there any guy who didn't see her that way, who saw her as a woman? Maybe someone she was seeing?"

"She wasn't seeing anyone."

"Did Blair ever tell you who her baby's father was?" Unlike Goren who had been trying to get answers out of the woman in a subtle manner, Eames opted for the more direct line of questioning.

"She didn't tell me." Jen got up and walked towards one of the large windows that lined the room. Just as an awkward silence began to settle over the room she spoke again. "She didn't have to."

"What do you mean?"

"It was obvious. At least to me. But maybe that's only because I was the only one who knew the whole story."

"Would you care to elaborate, Jen?"

"It started a long time ago. Twelve years ago. Blair was 23 when she started hooking up with her friend, our friend, Nick. He had a girlfriend and it wasn't serious when it first started happening. They were really good at keeping it a secret. I'm pretty sure the only reason I know is because one night we were all out at the bar and I told Blair I thought he was a great guy and that they would be great together. She laughed and drunkenly told me that it had been happening all summer long."

Jen turned around and walked back to her chair.

"It never stopped. Isabella is 18 months old, Nick was married 26 months ago. Blair was already one month into her pregnancy when he got married. It's his."

"We're she and Nick still seeing each other?"

"No. Blair said she couldn't do that with someone else's husband. He married the girl that he had been dating when the two of them first started hooking up. Her name is Crystal. I never understood why he never left her for Blair. He would tell me all the time how much he loved Blair. On his wedding day he asked me at the reception why Blair hadn't stood up and objected during the ceremony."

Jen shook her head at the memory and wiped a tear away.

"I told him she wasn't going to chase him and that having known her his whole life he shouldn't have thought she would chase. I told him that the ball had been in his court all along. If he had wanted Blair he should have left Crystal, I told him."

"Does he know the baby is his?"

"No. I mean I'm sure he could have guessed about the timing. She wasn't seeing anyone else in all the time she was seeing him. I mean, Blair loved Nick. But, Blair wanted Nick to put her first and he felt bad breaking Crystal's heart. Let's just say… married life hasn't been kind to him. They fight all the time now. And from what I understand they've had trouble conceiving a child of their own."

"Did Crystal know about Blair?" Jen's eyes moved away from Eames and back to Goren.

"No way. Like I said before, those two were really good about keeping their secret."

"Okay. That's really helpful. Would you mind writing down Nick's contact information for us?"

"Sure. But… he's out of the country for the rest of the week. In Holland. He goes every year to visit his cousins."

"Right. Okay."

"Please, detectives, please let me know if there is anything I can do or if you find Isabella."

Goren and Eames showed themselves out of the apartment and back to their vehicle.

"Well, that was interesting…" Goren started a thought but trailed off, not completing his sentence.

"I'll say. A ten year affair cut off by marriage, one almost no one knew about no less. What are the odds that Nick is our man?"

"Hard to know, until we can talk to him. It's late in Holland already. What do you say we go get that dinner we talked about and maybe figure out how we can contact Nick in the morning?"

"Sounds good."

Eames slid behind the wheel of their car and pulled out of their spot with ease, wondering at the suddenly giddy feeling she had about the prospect of dinner with her partner.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I don't own them

After stopping back at One Police Plaza the duo rode the subway up two stops to Canal street and walked east towards Mott street then walked one block north to Hester Street and ducked in to _Vincent's_ in the heart of Little Italy. There was a good midweek crowd in the restaurant which suited the detectives just fine as they could kind of lose themselves in there.

After ordering two house salads, a veal parmigiana for Bobby, an order of baked Manicotti for Eames and a couple of glasses of wine the pair reveled for a moment in the easy silence that they were able to enjoy after so many years of knowing each other. Even with their difficulties of late it was simple enough to take comfort in the fact that neither felt the need to constantly fill the void with useless banter.

Eames found herself people watching, staring mostly at couples. It was hard for her to remember a time and place where she had been one of them. Someone to laugh with, someone to enjoy a meal with on a regular basis, someone to share a bad day with… someone to just be with. A standing date.

Goren, for his part, was lost in his own thoughts. He had never really known what it was like to be one half of a whole outside of his partnerships with other cops. He was used to going home alone at night, having dates that never went anywhere and mornings when he woke up alone.

They turned back towards one another, their eyes meeting briefly. Eames looked away shyly when she realized they were staring at each other. Goren watched as a slight flush came over his diminutive partners face and he wondered what had her acting so unlike herself.

"What are you thinking about?" The direct route was always the best, in his mind.

"I… nothing really. Just… thinking." He could tell whatever was on her mind she didn't feel like discussing with him. He wondered why he settled for that as an answer when he truly longed to know more about what was running through her head. As her partner he worried lately about the fact that they were so disconnected from one another thoughts. As her friend he worried that she wasn't entirely okay. Then there was that part of him. The part of him that wasn't supposed to exist. The part of him that wanted to know her on some more intimate level than he had ever been allowed.

Still, he was able to control the last part. Pressing for answers from his partner as if she were a suspect was not the right way to go about healing the wounds that existed between them.

"What do you think about this case, Goren?"

"I'm not sure what to think. We have the male friend who found her dead whose alibi is not airtight. The girlfriend who could have possible motive borne out of jealousy. The ex-lover who we have yet to meet who is out of the country. I'm not sure what to make of him though. We haven't met him and he's been out of the country."

"We both know that doesn't rule him out though. He could have paid someone else to do it. We've seen that often enough to know that it is certainly possible. Do you think the baby is still alive?"

"I have to believe that she is. I think that if someone was going to kill the kid they would have done it when they killed Blair. Why kidnap a baby, a child who will never be able to remember what she saw let alone communicate it to anyone, if you could just kill them and save yourself the trouble of a massive manhunt. I mean, whoever did this has to know we are looking for them. Her picture has been all over the news."

"Yeah. I don't know. If whoever killed Blair killed her in a fit of rage isn't it possible that the same person could fly into a fit of rage if the baby sets them off or does something they don't like?"

"Well, anything's possible. You know that as well as I do. I don't know that there is any sense in sitting here playing guessing games, however. If we can find who did this to Blair in quick fashion I'm almost positive well find the baby. The other thing I think is this: If the baby is dead she's been dead since shortly after the person took her when they would have realized that they made a damning mistake by taking a child that everyone would search for. So, if she hasn't been dead for a few days she certainly isn't dead now. And, killing a baby and dumping the body is sure to make the situation far worse for our killer."

Eames looked away. The idea of a dead baby made her insides curdle. It was hard to imagine killing another human being out of anything other than self-defense, and the idea of killing a child… totally foreign.

"Did you contact immigration?"

"Yeah, while you were in the bathroom. They are looking up Nick's passport number and confirming that he did in fact leave the country and enter into Holland. If he went somewhere else… or if he left Holland on a train or bus… you know, it will be slightly problematic to find him."

"Right, well I got a message saying that tips are pouring in about Isabella, but no solid leads yet. They're going to call me if they get anything good."

"I think for now we should just enjoy our dinners," Goren responded as his veal was placed in front of him.

"I agree." While she did, in fact, agree with Bobby that they should try to enjoy their meals she was also shocked that he had suggested it. Usually it was so hard to tear his mind away from a case.

They ate in relative silence, not saying much to one another other than to comment on how good their food was. While watching his partner as discretely as possible he could sense her longing for something more in life as she stared aimlessly at the couples in the restaurant. He had to assume that any case involving a missing child hit home for her. She had given the ultimate gift in giving up a child and he knew that it struck her even harder than most when they were involved with cases of missing children, any form of child abuse, or that of the unfairly grotesque child murders.

They were hard cases for any cop to swallow. Tough as she was, his partner was no exception.

"What drives you, Bobby?" The question came out of nowhere as they were finishing up their dinner.

"I'm sorry?"

"What gives you the motivation to continue working on cases such as these? I'm sometimes surprised that you haven't gone into private consulting."

He wasn't sure what was driving her questions. If she really wanted to know what drove him to solve cases such as these or if there was so much strain on their partnership lately that she was trying to feel out whether or not he was contemplating leaving.

"I… with children, more than with anything else, I want to succeed. No child should be subjected to the horrors that we discover exist in this world every day. The horrors that exist here in our own city. As for the rest of them… I've always liked a good puzzle."

She let out a small chuckle at that. She knew how well her partner liked to piece everything together, leaving no stone unturned in his quest for answers.

"That… and, as sad as it sounds, this is my life these days you know?"

"I do know." Her response came with a sad smile and he realized how well she did know. When her husband had died she seemed to have decided that that was it for her and that she was just going to throw herself into her job and forget about the rest. Having a child for her sister, it had been a glimpse for her into a life she could have possibly had for herself.

He paid for dinner and the two walked silently back toward the subway, it being too cold to walk all the way back to One Police Plaza. When they emerged from underground it had begun to snow lightly. The quiet that had been so easy between them only moments before seemed to have tensed as they moved into the garage towards Eames' car. Goren wondered if this was because dinner had not, in fact, resolved anything between the two of them or if it was because something else was scratching at the surface waiting to come out.

He leaned against the driver's side rear door as she unlocked the car. She had pulled in early in the morning and was able to pull forward into a spot so she wouldn't have to back up when she left that night.

"Get home safe. Be careful, I'm sure the roads are slick."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry. I'll see you back here bright and early, maybe we can go talk to Nick's wife." She tossed her bag into the car, not looking as she gave her response.

There was something that he felt just then. Something so easy, like old times. He wasn't sure what made him do what he did, but he did it.

Turning around the word "Goodnight" began to form on her lips but was stymied by his mouth atop her own.

Immediately her hands flew to his shoulders as a defense mechanism, pushing herself away from him.

"I… Bobby… Goren… we can't. I'm sorry. I can't."

With that she slid into the car and closed the door behind her, leaving no room for discussion as she started the engine and pulled away.

A/N2: _Vincent's _is on the corner of Mott and Hester in NYC down in little Italy. Very tasty Italian if I do say so myself, and I don't find myself recommending Italian restaurants very often (only because I was raised in a traditional Italian home where I was taught how to make my own pasta etc).


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Not mine. Just borrowing.

When her alarm went of the next morning she gave pause for a moment, wondering if the night before had been some kind of nightmare. Wondering if her twisted mind had merely dreamed the feeling of her partner's lips making soft contact with her own. The terrible feeling she'd had in the pit of her stomach as she'd at under the pulsing shower trying to wash away the idea that she'd humiliated him.

But… it hadn't been.

This was no nightmare. She had pushed her partner away from her, even as she'd wanted to reciprocate. She had felt the softness of his lips and had panicked. The alarm bells had rung like a fire truck in her mind, signaling an emergency.

Alexandra Eames had turned so quickly on her best friend because she no longer believed in herself as a woman who could have anything more than a one night stand or a few dates before things ended. She wasn't willing to risk her friendship and her partnership in order to find out if it was different with Goren.

Staring up at the ceiling, snuggled under the warm blankets of her bed the motivation to get up and go to work just couldn't be found. She didn't know if she would be able to face him, didn't know if she could take seeing the hurt look in his eyes. Even if he did a wondrous job of concealing it she would still know the pain that lay there.

The phone on the bedside table rang then, jarring Eames out of her daydream.

"Shit."

Though she didn't know why she bothered as only two people would call her at 6:30a.m., she looked at her caller ID anyway.

"Eames" As she flipped the phone open and said her name she closed her eyes and willed the start of the day to disappear.

"Eames, it's me."

No such luck.

"EU passport control in Amsterdam registered Blair's friend Nick Janssen as boarding a plane at 10:00a.m. their time, 4:00a.m. our time, to return to New York."

"That plane won't land until at least noon. Why are you calling me at 6:30 to tell me about it?"

She knew how that sounded the second it came out of her mouth. As if she did not care about their case in the least.

"Well, EU passport control contacted INS, who we had contacted yesterday to red flag the passport. While I'm surprised that INS put the bulletin out so quickly… I mean you know how these bureaucracies are… but I guess they actually did their jobs in a timely fashion for once… I just thought you would want to know is all."

Right. In her mind she knew that he wasn't telling the whole truth. Goren wasn't lying about thinking she would want to know. But… she also knew that when Goren was the one to get the calls in the middle of the night or early in the morning he avoided waking her for as long as he could. He was just a gentleman like that. She had always appreciated it. His calling her so early was a tell.

He was trying to gauge how things stood between them before he had to see her.

"Great. Okay. I'll see you down at One PP in a little while Bobby."

Why had she called him Bobby? Questions like this one swam through her mind as she closed the phone. She was more confused than ever about where they stood. In truth, she didn't know what she wanted anymore than she knew what she didn't want.

Closing her eyes and leaning back into her pillow she searched for momentary solace from the stress that a day only moments old had wrought.

Her thoughts wandered and she began to think of her partner. What would it be like to wake up in his arms? The feel of his lips played over and over again in her head. It was if they had just met her own only seconds earlier.

_Stop it, Alex. This isn't some fantasy man, this is your partner_. She inwardly chided herself for letting her mind stray towards endlessly pleasurable possibilities.

In her head she had trouble reconciling the many ways in which she tried to justify herself that it would be wrong to have such un-partner-like thoughts with the fact that part of her didn't give a damn who said it was wrong. It all boiled down to one thing:

She felt like damaged goods.

When Joe had died she didn't turn into a woman who felt like she could never love again. Quite the opposite. She desperately wanted to love and to be loved again. She had merely turned into a woman who was willing to sell herself short in what she found because she felt like it was wrong to expect that she get more than one good shot at the real deal. That and the fact that she never wanted to worry about losing something so good again. So, she settled for things that weren't that good.

Her eyes popped back open and, with a groan, she pushed herself out of bed.

She couldn't dwell on what she had decided for herself could never be. More than anything else Bobby Goren was important to Alex Eames as a partner and as a friend. She had made the choice for herself that anything beyond that was not to be.

& &

He wondered if maybe he should apologize. The embarrassment had hit him like a high-speed train the night before when his partner had pushed him away. And every time he closed his eyes to blink that train rolled over him again.

Goren hadn't meant to startle his partner, nor had he meant to embarrass either of them. He had merely decided that the best way to break down the wall that had risen between them in the last few months was to try and bust through it. It turns out it was made of bricks and capable of knocking him on his rear.

That he had further embarrassed himself by calling her on the phone so early in the morning. He knew when he did it that waking her up to tell her something that would have no effect on their lives for another six hours that his excuse was merely serving as a patsy for his true desire: to hear her voice.

A glance toward the elevator bank and then down at the files on his desk told him he didn't have time to dwell on the embarrassment he felt. A child was missing and a woman was dead and it was time to get back to work.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I don't own them.

The duo had Nick Janssen detained as he was coming through immigration. When his passport was scanned the guard had asked him to step aside and he had been led into a small holding area at JFK Airport. When the detectives arrived they wasted no time in getting in the room with him.

Goren was feeling particularly antsy after the previous nights events and was eager to meet the man he now considered to be a prime suspect in the murder of Blair McKee. Even though the man had been out of the country at the time of her death it was entirely possible that he had hired someone to do it. That, and the thought had crossed Goren's mind more than once that it was possible that the man had hired someone to take the child and bring her to him in Holland. If she was out of the country it would be very hard to get her back.

Goren sat at the table across from the man while Eames leaned against the wall in the corner. The man that sat before them was tall and bulky with sandy blonde hair and green eyes. The same coloring as the detectives had seen in the photo of the little girl. Goren felt no doubt in his mind that this man was the child's father.

"So, Nick. We hear you knew Blair quite well."

"She was one of my oldest friends. We –"

"Oh, cut the crap. I don't have the patience for this today. You knew her 'intimately' is what my partner is trying to get out of you. You knew her intimately." Eames' voice came harshly from the back of the room.

Goren didn't have to glance at her face to know the expression that lay there. When she had arrived at work she had looked as though she hadn't slept well. There were dark half circles under her eyes that she had tried to conceal and a look of ultimate frustration that she somehow couldn't hide.

Goren knew she wouldn't be able to show the suspect that sat before them any sympathy. Far too many times his partner had fallen prey to the charm of married men. Far too many times she had been the one who had been hurt. Knowing that even if Janssen wasn't guilty of murder he was still guilty of adultery would be enough to cause Eames to look upon him disdainfully.

"Y-yes. I knew her… 'intimately.'" Nick looked away, almost embarrassed. "Please don't tell my wife." This last sentence came as a mumble

"What makes you think she doesn't already know, hasn't figured it out?" Goren resumed control of the questioning, not wanting his partner to push the suspect into defensive mode too soon.

"She never asked me. Not once, did she ever ask me if I had been with Blair. I mean, it had stopped by the time we got married, but in the years we were dating she never asked… never acted as though she suspected anything."

"And when Blair got pregnant?"

"I guess she assumed it was the result of a one night stand or a casual relationship she was unaware of. Crystal and Blair never really built a strong friendship. Crystal was intimidated by Blair's confidence and the fact that so many of Blair's friends were men. She tried, and they were certainly nice to one another, but it's not like they were going out for drinks on their own or anything. I wish they would have… Blair was my closest friend, after Crystal. I would have loved it if they had become closer."

"Did you know about the baby?"

"Isabella? What about her?"

"Did you know she was yours?"

"I… she… Blair never told me."

"But?"

"I suspected. I mean… blonde hair, green eyes. She certainly didn't have Blair's coloring, that's for sure. And, it happened when we were still…"

The man paused as if he couldn't go further with his thought, as though it pained him to do so. Tears seemed to fill his eyes and he looked away once again to hide his sorrow.

Eames rolled her eyes and shook her head in disgust.

"Oh what, she wasn't good enough for you to commit to but she's suddenly good enough for you to grieve over as if she was the love of your life?!" The words flew out of her mouth without an ounce of control and Goren looked in her direction, concerned for a second about her rage.

"You don't know anything about my relationship with her. I did love her, but it was never going to work. We were never on the same page. She wanted me to go after her and I didn't know how to be the one that gave chase. I was used to the girls that cling, the ones that never want to be away from you. She was strong, independent. She was never going to cling and I didn't know how to be the one that clung to her. So I let myself get taken by Crystal. It was never what I envisioned, alright? But it was what it was?"

"So what happened? She met someone new and you got jealous? Were you mad that she never let you be 'dad' to Isabella? And speaking of Isabella, where is she?"

"I… I don't know. I didn't have anything to do with Blair's death. And I wish I knew who did. And I certainly wish I knew where the kid was. I wish to God I did. She's my daughter, in my heart of hearts I know this, and the idea of her being… harmed in any way is unbearable."

"Where were you that night?"

"I was in Amsterdam, on my annual trip to visit my cousins. You know this. You had my passport number run through the system. You know I was out of the country. And I didn't hire anyone to do this for me, if that's what your thinking next."

Goren looked at Eames, making eye contact, signaling that while he wasn't sure he bought this guy's story he was certain he wasn't going to get anything out of him now.

"Okay, Mr. Janssen. We're going to let you go for now, but I'm going to ask that you not leave the country until further notice. In fact, if you would not leave the city…"

Nick nodded, stood up from the table and left the room.

"Well?"

It was a statement as much as it was a question. Goren could tell his partner was getting frustrated at the seemingly dead end that this lead had presented but he also knew that she wanted to know what he was thinking.

"I'm not sure. It could be him. But… his pain seems genuine. The tears… don't seem like an act like some of the other ones we've seen. And part of me believed him when he said he didn't know where Isabella is."

"I'm worried, Goren. I mean, the odds are shrinking that the child is even alive at this point."

"She's not dead. I don't think she's dead. I think if she was going to be dead she would have been dead at the scene with her mother."

"I'm not sure where we go from here, though. I feel like we're hitting walls in every direction."

"I want us to follow this guy for a bit. If it is him, I think he's going to lead us to the kid. I think we should put a uniform on his apartment. Maybe even stake the place out ourselves tonight. I think if he's stashed the kid somewhere and he's going to slip out to see her, it will be when he thinks no one is looking."

Eames mutely nodded her head in agreement, all the while thinking that being trapped in close quarters with her partner was not really somewhere she wanted to be that evening.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I don't own them.

A/N2: Sorry for the long time between updates. Someone very close to me passed away and I just haven't been that motivated. Hopefully, I'll be more motivated in the coming weeks. I know this isn't the longest chapter, but it's something to get me started.

They had parked their non-descript SUV outside of Janssen's Brooklyn brownstone. The sun had set on a cold New York day and the pair had unwrapped the sandwiches they had brought for dinner. A thermos of coffee sat in between Goren's feet, a necessity should the night turn into the wee hours of morning.

"So, what is it you hope us to find tonight?" Eames casually asked Goren.

The silence in the car was becoming uncomfortable for both and even the silence that they usually enjoyed while sharing meals was not doing anything to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to sit on the middle console between them. So, she had started simply. A neutral topic that would, hopefully, provoke a neutral response.

"Well, I figure if Janssen's got the baby he can't just be leaving her unattended all the time. Even if he's got someone watching her during the day, or if he hired someone to kill Blair and take care of the baby until he got back from Holland, he has to go get her at some point. He can't just leave her forever."

"You think it's him?" Eames prodded.

"Definitely, even if he didn't actually do the killing he would have paid the money to have someone else do it. He clearly wanted to be able to alibi himself, so he left the country. But, leaving the country doesn't preclude him from being behind the crime."

Goren's insight, no matter how simple, never failed to amaze Eames. As partners the pair had different strengths and reading people was certainly one that fell into the category of Goren.

"And if the baby isn't here?" Eames asked, searching for more insight.

"Well, if the baby isn't here I think we'll see him come back out and lead us to the baby. He can't have had a baby kidnapped and then not go take it for his own, or at least go see it. I mean, it's obvious he knew it was his kid."

"Yeah, but isn't it possible that he would have just told the killers to dump the baby elsewhere or to take it and leave it outside a hospital or firehouse…" She trailed off, knowing her argument was futile. In her head she knew that the likelihood of the killers dropping the baby at a safe zone was not high. They would have risked being seen by people with a child who would eventually make headline news.

Silence reigned again in the car, like a thick blanket shielding them from the chill of winter.

"Goren.. Bobby… I'm sorry, about last night. I just… I don't think that you and I should be crossing this line. I know what you think exists between us and, yeah, I can agree with you on the fact that it does exist, but that doesn't mean that we should act upon it. I don't want to ruin what we've got."

"Eames, we really don't have to talk about this. It's okay. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done what I did. I know that I overstepped my bounds. Sometimes the line gets a little blurry."

"I know. Believe me, I do know. And, I also know it's been hard lately. We haven't been on the best of terms, personally or professionally. It's easy to want to take the quick fix route, I understand that too. But… I don't think it will be the ultimate solution for us in the long run. I don't think it's going to end the way we want it to."

"And what way is that, Alex?" Goren fired back, suddenly becoming very intense. "I know what I want and I think you know what you want too you just won't let yourself have it."

"Oh, don't start with this. You know so little about how I feel on this matter. I won't let myself have what I want. Please. I know what I want, I want stability in my life, particularly my working life, since that's how I spend so much of my time. We can't even have that, so how or rather why should I pursue more?!"

As Eames queried this the sandy-blonde haired figure of Janssen came around the corner and up the block, then took the steps up to the brownstone two at a time.

A light came on in the brownstone, followed by another.

"Look…" Goren trailed off, pointing at the lights and the fact that someone had just stood up in the newly lighted room.

A long blonde haired girl stood in full view from where the detectives sat in their car.

"Must be the wife. Crystal" Goren announced.

He fumbled around the car seat and finally picked up a pair of binoculars and brought them to his eyes, hoping to get a better view of the woman's face.

Nick came into view in the same window, gesticulating wildly.

"It looks like their fighting," Eames stated matter-of-factly. Even without binoculars she knew how people moved their hands when angry, particularly after spending so much time around Goren.

"Yes, now she's yelling and pointing at him," Goren countered, still watching through the binoculars. By this point both pairs of hands were flying around behind the glass windowpane.

It was when Goren saw Nick reach up and wipe at his eyes that a light when off in his head.

The wild hand gestures had ceased and a solemn faced Crystal stood before Nick, watching him cry without showing any emotion for him. Then she turned and moved away from the window.

"It's her, Eames. It's his wife, Crystal. It's not Nick."

At that moment Crystal came bounding down the steps outside of the building and stalked quickly down the block.

"Follow her, Eames. I'm going to go upstairs and see if I can get Nick to turn on her. If he really loved Blair, than as much as he still loves Crystal it won't take much."

Eames was already halfway out of the car as Goren spoke, but he continued anyway.

"Stay close to her Eames, but don't let her know you're there. Let me know if she makes any stops."

Eames took off down the block, trying to get closer to Crystal before she rounded the corner but not trying to look conspicuous.

Goren took the steps to Janssen's apartment two at a time, all the while wondering if he should have separated from his partner without either of them having backup.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I don't own them. Also, some language in this chapter.

Goren watched for a second as his partner took off down the street behind Crystal. He was certain at this point that she was the missing piece of the puzzle and that she would lead them to the baby. Still, it was hard for him to see the buxom, smiling blonde from the photos he had seen as a physical threat to anyone. Goren knew though, in his heart of hearts, that it was possible for anyone to snap and still maintain a veneer of calm on the outside.

After Eames had rounded the corner Goren made his way up the steps of the brownstone and up to the top floor. He wasn't totally certain that he wanted to out himself right away as having witnessed what had to have been an argument between the Nick and his wife but knew that if the man didn't out himself within the first few minutes he was going to have to move in for the proverbial kill.

When he got to the landing at the top of the stairs he moved towards the apartment door. When he knocked the door opened a bit, a sign that Crystal had been too careless to fully close it behind her when she left. That or too angry.

"Look, Crystal… I don't want to hear it!! There is no possible reason or excuse you could have for doing this. It's utter madness. And if you think I'm going to protect you just because you're my wife…"

Nick's voice bellowed and then trailed off from the next room as Goren stood in the entryway, assuming that the person who had entered was his wife and not the large detective. He moved further into the apartment, towards the sound of the mans voice that reverberated from within.

Goren paused in the entryway to the living room, letting his obtrusive and imposing figure announce itself. After a short pause, Goren got the response he sought.

"You… you're not… what are you doing here?' A startled Nick looked up, a mix of anger, hurt and sadness written on his face like an open book for the skilled profiler to read.

"Oh, you know… just in the neighborhood." Goren's nonchalant answer came with a sense of ease, a calm knowing look on his face. He glanced around the room, surveying the scene that Janssen himself had walked into mere moments before.

"Right. What were you, sitting outside waiting for me to come home? Seeing if I would lead you down the garden path to the promised land? No shot, Detective, you're not going to find anything here." Janssen's hostility was open and raw, it hid nothing and the despair in his eyes told Goren that he knew this.

"Ah, but you did lead me to the so called 'promised land.'" A sly grin crossed Goren's face in that second, basically laying his cards down for Nick to see. "You lead me right where I wanted to be."

"The middle of my living room, amongst a mess of wine and a plate of cold stir fry?" The tone of Janssen's voice signaled further that the man knew that the best he could do was to buy himself some time.

"Not exactly Nick, but close. You led me to see what I needed to see. The missing piece of the puzzle. It's not you, Nick. I know now, although I wouldn't have believed it when I first met you this morning, that it's not you. It couldn't be you."

"Right, so… you're here why?"

"Your wife, Nick. It was Crystal. You know it and I know it. Detective Eames is following her right now and I'm almost positive that if you couldn't lead me right to the promised land Crystal is going to take Eames there for sure."

Janssen sat speechless and Goren could see that the man was unsure whether or not he was capable of turning on the _other _woman that he loved, his wife, and turning her over to the large cop.

"What happened? Crystal found out? Maybe she even caught you and Blair? Did she realize that Blair's child was in fact your child? Did she see little Isabella one day, realize that she ahs your eyes, your hair?"

Janssen stared blankly at Goren from his spot on the couch before getting up and moving purposefully towards the window. His gazed fixed on the tree branches whipping in the wind outside.

"C'mon Nick! What happened? It's just eating at you inside isn't it? Just dying to come out…"

Goren began to encroach on the man's space, moving towards the window frame and tilting his head to the side, getting into Janssen's peripheral vision.

Janssen's head snapped up as he pulled himself toe to toe with the larger man that stood in front of him. Then he ducked away and moved back to the couch.

"It… it wasn't. She never caught us. It was never here and she and Blair weren't close. It went on for years Blair and I. We just… we had been friends our whole lives, too afraid to fuck it up. Still, neither of us ever outgrew what first started as juvenile sexual tension. That tension was always there, even when there wasn't anything else. Even when we went through times where we were less than friendly, not on the best of terms… there was something about her. I swear being in the same room… I just wanted to touch her."

Goren nodded, knowing just how the man felt. Sometimes he just wanted to grab Alex and do the same. Professional restraint kept him in check, but he still knew the feeling well.

"Like nothing else in the room mattered, and no one else was there."

"How did she find out, Nick? How did Crystal finally figure it out after all those years."

"I told one of my sisters about Isabella. Her name is Amanda. She's twelve years older than I am, lives down South. I don't see her except for holidays. We don't run in the same circle of friends…"

"You thought you were safe. That no one would know your secret?"

"Yeah. Except I fucked it up. I couldn't keep my mouth shut long enough to talk to my sister on a phone outside of the house. I didn't hear Crystal come in… when I got off the phone she was just standing there. In the entrance to the kitchen. Just staring."

Each sentence out of Janssen's mouth was punctuated with pain. Goren knew it wasn't because the man had hurt his wife.

"Where did she go, Nick? Where was Crystal going when she left just now?"

"I… I don't know. Really. I don't know."

"Think, Nick. Think hard. If you tell me before she gets there I can alert Eames and some backup… she won't have a chance to hurt Isabella."

At the mention of his daughters name Janssen once again snapped to attention.

"Where would she go Nick? Where would she have taken Isabella? Who would she have trusted her with if she didn't intend to ultimately kill her."

"She's not dangerous, Detective."

"I beg to differ, Nick. And my partner just went after her. I don't want to see anything happen to any of them. Still, if she tries to hurt the child I can guarantee you that Eames will do everything in her power to stop her. And if my partner gets hurt… I can't promise you it's not going to end well for anyone in my line of sight. Now tell me where she went."

"Anne."

The name came out a whisper that Goren barely caught.

"She took the baby to Blair's friend Anne. Crystal didn't have many friends of her own, something that can be attributed to her jealous tendencies. So she took the few friends I had that exhibited that less than fine quality and made them her own. She had grown close to Anne these last few months, maybe that explains why Blair and Anne were drifting apart. That's the only place I can think of that she would go."

The first sentence was all Goren needed to hear before bolting out of the apartment, his phone to his ear calling for backup. The rest was just background noise as his feet carried him down the stairs.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I don't own them. Also, there are probably only 2-3 chapters left after this so the end is, in fact, near. Reviews/constructive criticism welcome.

Eames followed quickly behind Crystal Janssen. The woman was blonder than she was and quite a bit taller. If Eames were inclined to be brutally honest she would say that the woman looked like she belong in a strip club. The excess cleavage, overdone make-up, extra-tight jeans… either a strip club or on a corner in Times-Square before Giuliani had come in and cleaned the place up.

The contrasts between Crystal and what Eames knew of Blair were sharp and etched for the world to see. It was abundantly clear that Janssen did not have a "type" and that if he did he clearly had broken out of that mold at some point. Blair was seen as reserved in her clothing choice and in her mannerisms as was clear from talking with her friends and looking through a plethora of her life's photographs over the course of the last few days.

As Eames followed along the path that Crystal blazed before her she had to wonder what it was that made people like Janssen seek such sharp differences in their lives, such black and white with no shades of gray in between. She also wondered at how Janssen ended up with Crystal rather than with Blair. It seemed that his history with Blair spanned the man's whole life and from the conversation she had born witness to, and based on his appearance at that time, it appeared to Eames as though Blair would have been a better fit for Nick.

This should have been the point where, had she been with one of her closest friends or sisters, she would have been reminded that opposites did attract. What it was was the point wherein her subconscious reminded her that maybe this was the case with her and her partner.

Speeding up, Eames pushed those thoughts from her mind. _You have a job to do and it is inappropriate to be thinking about your partner in that way. And, thinking about your partner in that way while on the job is exactly the reason why you shouldn't be getting involved with your partner. It will just cause you to think about him on the job in inappropriate ways even more often and that is definitely what you are trying to avoid._

While she warred with herself on the inside her gaze remained fixed on the woman who continued to walk with purpose ahead of her. As Crystal made a right off of Court Street and onto Third Street Eames followed suit.

The woman ahead must have begun to sense someone behind her as she briefly glanced over her shoulder. Eames averted her eyes so as to avoid looking like she was following her. It was a trick that never work but Crystal's defenses must have been low as she went back to her charge ahead with purpose.

She strode up the stoop of a pre-war brownstone and let herself in. In her carelessly distracted state she did not completely close the outer door behind her, leaving Eames free to enter with ease.

Eames stood in the vestibule for a moment, listening as Crystal let herself into the apartment a floor above. When the apartment's door was ajar the cries of a child could be heard from within. Remaining on the landing a floor below Eames pulled out her cell phone and sent Goren and the current Major Case liaison at the DA's office and requested an arrest warrant for Crystal Janssen. When the DA's office came back and asked for some sort of probable cause Goren would be able to provide them with the details.

She sent second text to Goren saying that yes, the child was being kept at Anne's apartment but that she had yet to enter and ascertain her condition.

Eames hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. She knew Goren would have called for back-up for her upon receipt of her first text. Still, she was hesitant to enter the apartment alone.

Her phone vibrated with a response from Goren saying an arrest warrant was being drawn up and that back-up would be arriving in 2-3 minutes. The fact that she wouldn't have to wait long made her mind up for her. A lot could happen in 2-3 minutes, especially to a defenseless child. While she knew that a lot could also happen to her, she couldn't live with herself if something happened to a child.

She took the stairs slowly, trying not to let the creaks of their age announce her presence before she could do it herself. She wanted to present herself to Crystal and Anne on her own terms.

Stopping outside of Anne's apartment door she held her breath, careful not to make a sound, so that she could attempt to hear what was going on within the apartment walls. However, Eames didn't get what she was looking for. All she could hear were the sobs of a baby. Nothing to give her any indication of what was going on inside.

So she knocked.

"Who- who is it?" Anne's voice responded from the other side of the door sounding strained, nervous.

"Anne, it's Detective Eames. I just had a few follow up questions and was in the neighborhood interviewing another of Blair's friends…" She knew it was a long shot of an excuse to get the woman to open the door. Still, it was the only likely reason Eames would have for being in the neighborhood.

There was the sound of movement from within, the sound of the baby's cries getting farther away, a door closing inside of the apartment.

"Uh… um, now isn't really a good time for me." Anne responded but still the apartment door opened a crack, the safety chain staying in place so that Eames couldn't force her way in.

"Anne, please. I just have a few questions. It will only take a few minutes."

The cries of the baby could be heard more clearly now that the apartment door was cracked open.

"Anne. I didn't realize you had a baby…"

"I... I'm watching my sister Leah's kid."

"No. You're not. You have Isabella. You have your dead friend's child locked in your bedroom. My partner and back-up should be here in a matter of seconds. This isn't going to end the way you want it to."

"You don't understand. Crystal. She's nuts. If I let you in here she'll hurt Isabella."

"She's not that nuts. She's pretty crazy, I'll admit. But not that nuts. She doesn't want to go away for killing a child. Jury's look far less favorably on that then they do on killing your peers. So do the Judge's responsible for sentencing people. So she's not going to add to her sentence like this. And I would think a smart woman like you would ant to limit your roll in this and be as cooperative as possible. Let me in Anne, maybe we can try to make this as right as we can under the circumstances before –"

A commotion could be heard from within the apartment while at the same time some uniformed officers came bounding up the stairs.. The door from the back of the apartment opened and Crystal could be heard running out.

"Quick, Anne, unchain the door, there are cops on the fire escape. The big cop that interviewed Nick, he's here. They're going to take her away. They're going to take Bella from me."

"You didn't think you running out of the room and not doing the polite thing and opening the window was going to stop me from getting in, did you?"

Eames heard her partner's voice and began to exhale until she heard the following:

"She's got a knife against the baby's back!"


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I don't own them

A/N: I don't own them.

The events that followed transpired quickly, although it seemed to Alexandra Eames that time had slowed and resembled the slow crawl of molasses as it made its way out of its container.

When Anne's words came barreling through the door and into Eames' ears the entire situation changed. A weapon was now in play and a child was in immediate danger. Her nerves began to take over her mind as her thoughts ran through the various ways this could play out. The thought that she kept coming back to was the idea that her partner wasn't as quick with his weapon as she was.

A knife was something you had to be particularly careful around, especially a knife that wasn't in plain view. A knife trapped between two bodies was one of the worst situations you could imagine. It's sharpness makes a knife more susceptible to the nervous movements of both the person wielding it and the person meant to be its victim. A gun, while very dangerous, isn't likely to harm a squirming child whereas a knife could harm the child inadvertently due to the child's movements. To react to the harm a knife could cause one had to be quick on the button and when it came to his gun, her partner was not known to be Speedy Gonzales.

On the other side of the door Robert Goren's mind was worried less about how quickly he could go for his weapon and more about how long it would take until there was back-up in the room with him. His confidence in his ability to take these two women down was not what he questioned so much as his confidence in his ability to take down the two women and insure that the baby remained unharmed.

His eyes drifted for a brief second to the back of the apartment, back towards the window and the fire escape where he had made his own grand entrance. He wondered how long it would be until someone came in that very window to offer their assistance. Still, he knew his job and he knew it did not always entail back-up.

"Crystal. What was it?" He decided to get right to the point, no pandering to the criminal and drawing it out. "You were jealous? Of Blair? The baby?"

At the mention of the word baby the woman looked up from the child on which her gaze had been fixed.

"What happened? Did you want a child? Do you want a child? Did Blair have Isabella and you realized it was Nick's and it just lit a fire under you?"

The blonde swallowed and looked away, while seemingly pulling the child closer to her body and even closer to the knife.

Goren tilted his head to the side in that way that he did so well, trying to catch Crystal's eye. When that tactic failed him he rounded on Anne. He was careful not to let Crystal, the knife and the baby out of his line of vision but still sought a potentially easier nut to crack.

"What about you Anne? What drove you into bed with Crystal? Blair was your best friend. Were you jealous? She was earning a ton of money, making the single parent thing work and work well. It must have irked you just a little to see her be so okay all the time. I know that feeling. When you're struggling, sometimes you just wish that the people around you didn't make it seem so easy al the time. I mean… has something been bothering you lately and you just wished you could commiserate with your best friend?"

"I didn't. I wasn't. I just… we stopped relating to each other as friends. I felt on the outside of everything she did. I grew closer to Crystal within our circle of friends because she always seemed like she was on the outside of everything. She wasn't a member of our original group. She didn't go all the way back with us. Didn't have the history. And so yeah, she was on the outside. As I started moving to the outside I began to see how it felt and I needed someone in my life who understood what it was like to be a part of a group but in that sort of detached way."

"When did it start? When she had the baby?"

"She stopped having time for me!" Anne shrieked.

"And so you were jealous of the baby. And Crystal… you were jealous of the baby too… it was the common bond that drew you together."

"She stole my husband. He may have loved her first and he may have known her longer but he was mine."

Crystal's hands were shaking nervously as Goren turned his attention back towards his suspect. His eyes briefly met hers before catching the movement of something behind her. Far back down the hallway from which they had both emerged was Eames and a uniformed officer climbing in the same window he had minutes earlier.

"It wasn't right what they did to you, Crystal. But hurting an innocent child isn't going to help anyone now. Or ever. It will weigh on your mind for the rest of your life. And it certainly won't help your chances in front of a jury."

The woman's eyes were hard as stone as Goren spoke. He couldn't judge whether or not he was getting through to her. At the same time he could see Eames moving quietly down the hallway, weapon drawn. The movement hadn't caught the eye of Anne yet, but he knew that if his partner moved five or six steps closer she would be in the woman's line of sight.

"Crystal. Just… give me the baby, put down the knife and there is a chance you won't spend the rest of your life in prison… Anne… maybe you want to talk to your friend. This is going to affect you too. If you think a judge isn't going to take into consideration that you went along willingly with Crystal's plan to hurt a child when sentencing you, you're wrong."

The uniformed officer was now right on Eames' heel in the hallway. Goren saw his arm moving cautiously, unclipping his gun from its holster.

"Crystal! Behind you! They're behind you!" Anne's cry sounded through the small apartment and a gunshot rang loudly a second after it.

Eames had fired a shot into Crystal's right arm, causing her to drop the knife. Goren moved forward quickly and snatched the baby out of her hands while the uniformed officer hurried forward to cuff Anne.

Goren went and unlocked the front door to the apartment, the baby still in his arms. More uniforms and a paramedic filled the small living area. Eames' shot wasn't enough to be life threatening but still Crystal had to be taken in a bus to the hospital, cuffed by her left wrist to the stretcher.

The baby started to babble in Goren's arm and stretched her little hands up to feel his face. He stared back at her wondrously, trying to envision how someone could want to hurt such an innocent creature. He forced a smile for the child, even though his thoughts had taken him to darker places. She smiled in return and he stuck his tongue out to elicit a giggle.

As Eames gave a statement to one of the uniforms on the scene she caught her partner engaged in a game of peek-a-boo. She allowed her gaze to linger a few seconds more than was necessary. She swallowed the swell of emotion she felt when it occurred to her how great her partner was with children of all ages in any situation.

When Goren caught her staring she looked away immediately. It continued to infuriate him that Eames wouldn't allow herself the things she truly desired in life. A good guy (a husband even?), a child, happiness… she denied herself these things and it didn't seem that he could get through to her.

As he passed the baby on to the social worker that had arrived he stole one last glance at his partner. He would try to get through to her one more time.

That would be the last time.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I don't own them

A/N: I don't own them

A/N2: Sorry for the delay in getting this last chapter posted, as well as the rushed feel the story has taken on in the last few chapters. I've started looking for a new job and it is consuming the majority of my free time.

The silence permeated the squad room. The scratching of pen on paper could be heard from desks away, should someone have been around to hear it. The detectives had chosen to stay late and finish their paperwork, rather than face it early the next morning.

Goren stole glances at his partner when he thought she wasn't looking although in his heart of hearts he knew she probably noticed his wandering eyes.

As Goren redirected his attention back to his own pen and paper Eames took her turn eyeing her partner. The only difference was that she chose to break the silence that had been hanging between them.

"You were really great with Isabella, Bobby."

He looked up at his partner, redness creeping into his cheeks.

"It uh, it was nothing. She seems like an easy kid."

"You know, you don't have to be so 'aw shucks' about everything. You can accept the compliment. You deserve it."

"What about you, Eames? I've seen how good you are with kids. Don't you want one of your own?:

"Now you're just changing the subject. I was merely paying you a compliment, you're getting personal."

"It's just… I want to see you happy, Eames. As your friend I want that for you. I worry that-"

Before he could go further she cut him off.

"Oh please, Goren. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say to me that you are encouraging these thing as my 'friend'?"

Goren gazed across the desks at her, a combination of determination and frustration clouding his features. When it took more than a second for a response to form on his lips his partner jumped on him again.

"You can't. You know you can't. Somewhere along the way your feelings for me and about me changed. You made it seem the other day that we could continue on 'business as usual' after I rebuffed your advances. Now you're proving that we can't. You and I work well together as a team but we aren't going to be able to be a team for much longer if we can't get past this."

Even as she said it she knew the threat was idle. She knew there was no way she was going to walk away from such an unbelievable partnership, not to even mention the friendship she would be leaving behind.

She also knew that she would never allow there to be anything more between them, no matter what she may or may not have wanted. It just could never be.

"I just want to see you happy, Eames. I see you look at children. I see the way you gaze at married couples we pass on the street. Fine, you want to fight about it, fine. Maybe it's not me you are supposed to have this with. But you don't seem to allow yourself to have it with anyone else either. I'm trying to provide this for you. We already have that friendship between us. The best relationships are built on strong friendships. I'm just trying to give you what I see so badly you want."

"No."

"Eames-"

"It's not what I want. Maybe in a different time, at a different age… maybe. Not now. I've got everything I want and I'm doing just fine on my own. Just because I've chosen a non-traditional route for my life doesn't mean I'm some damsel in distress waiting to be saved."

She knew she was lying through her teeth. While she was no damsel in distress she certainly did miss having a companion in her life. Someone she could come home to, someone to share her bad days with and, more importantly, the good days too.

Goren also knew his partner was lying. He could see it in her eyes. But he could also see how set she was, how hell-bent in her ways she was.

Robert Goren knew his partner better than anyone knew her. It was almost always that way with partners who were together over the course of many years. The endless days spent over paperwork and the sleepless nights together on stakeouts… partners learned a lot about each other in those times.

So that was how, simply by looking at her, Goren knew that his partner would never accept what he was offering. Would never let him take her on a date. Would never let him push beyond the walls the she had built around her heart.

So he just nodded in response.

He wasn't going to argue with her. He didn't want it to be a battle. He wanted it to be something they both wanted. Not a fight.

So he just nodded.

"Let's just leave it, okay? Let's just things alone."

He nodded his response again.

So she signed her last piece of paper and pushed her pile to the corner of her desk to be delivered the following morning.

Eames stood up and gave her partner one last look. He nodded his understanding. He wouldn't try to cross that line anymore. She nodded in return, gathered her things and retreated to the elevator.

And Goren was left with silence.

_Fin._


End file.
